Flames Create Us
by KJ.CleverHeart
Summary: Arthur no longer loves Gwen after two years of marriage. After the ending of their relationship, he needs someone to occupy his time. Perhaps Merlin will finally find a position he's less capable of handling than 'manservant'. Warnings: Slash (Merlin/Arthur), some Arthur/Gwen break-up angst mostly in first (skip-able) chapter.
1. Pain Is Only Relevant if It Still Hurts

**Kind of long A/N:** This is the first fanfic I've written in a four years, and the first Merlin fic I've ever written. It's mostly canon, as far as Merlin/Arthur can be. This would be vaguely set between season four and five, influenced by parts of season five. Lancelot is alive. To start this will be fairly Arthur-centric, and then more Merlin-centric. I have about 8000 words of this written so far, about four chapters. I'll post two and see how they do then possibly make changes to the rest based on response.

The first chapter is Arthur/Gwen (failing relationship), and you can feel free to skip it, I'll write a little summary at the start of chapter two if you don't want the repetitive angst that is a relationship falling apart. There will be less and less Gwen from there, the rest will be Merlin/Arthur pre-slash or slash.

Chapter One:

..XxXxX..

Arthur and Guinevere Pendragon had been happily married for two years.

And less happily married for several months past that. Arthur had thought he was in love. He had felt like he was. He allowed Gwen so much of himself he'd never thought to share with anyone else.

Gwen taught him patience. She would ask for explanations of the court, the same questions a million times when it was something so simple to Arthur, and he would forgive it and calmly reply. She would draw him from his work, regardless of how important it was, and he allowed it with a smile. Nothing she did could press past the peaceful feeling being in her presence brought to him.

Gwen taught him to hold his temper. If they argued, she would leave the room to think through what had been said and later approach it levelly, though she knew nothing bothered him more than being walked away from when he was talking. He would cool the blood that readied his tongue for insults, reminding himself how much Gwen meant to him and understanding that a few harsh words would drive away her tender heart if he ever let himself go.

Gwen had, more than anything, given him love and companionship when he felt like sinking into thought and inaction because of his father's death. He had grasped at their relationship and delved deep into the happiness it brought him to fight back the pain in his heart and try to replace the missing piece.

He had believed in their future. But none of that seemed to matter anymore. Quite suddenly, his patience was wearing thin. Every petty matter made him feel he hated Gwen, and what he wanted became more important than their relationship.

Arthur sometimes tried to picture Gwen with someone else. His mind would jump to how he felt finding her with Lancelot, and at first it hurt just as it had in that moment. Not just the betrayal, but the jealousy, he was usually quite good at being jealous. Eventually, even this thought failed to bring the pang of hurt: Gwen moving on felt inevitable, because he knew he couldn't keep this up.

Sometimes he tried to think of why it had changed. Perhaps their basic differences, or the feeling he could never fully trust her because of one large mistake on her part, had eventually quelled his passion for her. It was as if he had fallen out of love, causing him to wonder if it hadn't been obsession. He'd always believed, childish as it seemed to him, that love once begun would last a lifetime. He scoffed at the idea now, telling himself nothing could last but responsibility.

Arthur was still so comfortable with Gwen, and he was fond of her, sometimes he even felt that he owed her a debt, but there was no heat left. He didn't want to admit he could not change back, could not be in love with her again, but he had tried for months.

Gwen was perceptive. She knew something was changing. There were times his smiles fell flat. Sometimes he let his annoyance at her too-frequent touches show in his rigid movements. He showed no interest anymore in anything but sleeping when night came. Gwen would answer these with only a questioning glance, as if she didn't dare to look hurt, and try that much more to please him.

He sat at his desk now, looking over at Gwen, who was staring out the window to the darkened city. He took in her lovely profile, the dark ringlets and soft skin he had been captivated by at one time. Arthur tried, as he had many times, to conjure up that feeling again.

He failed, and as Gwen glanced over at him with a small smile, Arthur mirrored the expression in a way he hoped spoke of mutual caring. Her smile remained as she looked back to the nighttime view. "Love you." She said, with the sincere, soft quality her voice still carried only while speaking those words.

"And I you, with all my heart." The words felt like sand in his mouth, but he said them as he always did, hoping to prove to himself he meant them. After all, it must take a great deal of love to stay with someone and try so very hard. Arthur ignored that it may be the simplest way, and that part of him believed that even without love he and Gwen may be happiest together. And he wanted her to be happy.

..XxXxX..

He wondered if his heart had frosted over sometime between the pleading for him to just try a bit longer and the constant clinging touches. Arthur did care for Gwen deeply, and he hated seeing her unhappy. He knew that this was his fault, and that this reaction was not the worst she could have. He was taking away so much by falling out of love. But watching her eyes brighten and then the tears coursing down her pretty cheeks no longer caused his throat to tighten. He felt sorry for her, and a part of him almost wanted to just care again, but he was resigned to the fact that he could not.

He cared for her, of course. Arthur wanted her life to be as bright as it was when they thought they were in love. He just knew he could not be the one to give her what she wanted.

He allowed her to take his hand in hers, holding it to her cheek and sniffling, trying not to continue crying. "Please, Arthur." She whispered, pain tightening her brow. "Do you remember…" It always came back to this, and the nostalgia did make him ache for that feeling. He wanted to remember with her: how he had been willing to risk his crown for her. How he had felt a warmth deep in his chest when he held her tight to him, thinking 'this is what love feels like'; when the urge to protect her from anyone, to make her happy above all else, stole into him. Sometimes he thought if he could just be magicked back into love with her he would take that option.

He'd told her for months now that he didn't feel as he once did. She, observant as ever, had finally asked him why he was becoming distant. It hurt her to have him shy away from her tender touches. And he summoned more than the bravery he knew he had, acknowledging that he would hurt her further with the truth but that he couldn't bear to lie to her forever. He wasn't in love with her. Perhaps he never had been, though it had felt… he had thought… But it didn't matter anymore. How many times had her tears made him promise things he could not keep? How many times had she begged him and he had acquiesced because he just couldn't be the one to do this to her?

He had tried to enjoy things with her, had tried to heat their relationship once more, but no matter how one breathed on kindling, without a spark no fire would be born. Arthur was sick of being blamed for everything that happened between them, she would tell him he 'needed to get better' as if he was a sulking child. It did hurt that his father was gone. It didn't matter that he'd watched the King decay into a man, or that he was no longer a boy in need of a father to help him each day. He missed the guidance, and the pride, and he was afraid of what he was capable of without someone to tell him 'no'. Perhaps he would bring the kingdom to ruin. Perhaps tomorrow he simply wouldn't be able to get out of bed due to the crushing weight of shouldering it all. He worried often, and snapped at Guinevere when she didn't deserve it, and she would tell him that he wasn't pleasant to be around all of the time.

Now, and for the past few months, he could feel the gloom receding. He felt he was becoming a better king, and that his father would be proud yet. He had found friends in his knights, and in his manservant, the likes of which he had never known. He was not alone, and they believed in the country he worked to create with such fervor they would fight beside him until it was so. Not to mention brightening his days with their childish antics or loyal statements.

No, he had come to see that he was not drifting toward something dark, but rather toward a truth. He did not love Guinevere, and he could do nothing to fix that. All he could do was allow her out of their relationship and hope it led them both to a happier path in the future. He did hope she would remain in his life, but he did not press her for this, it was something she must choose alone.

He was tired of trying for nothing, and he realized fully the inevitable end that each "I'll try" simply postponed. He understood after telling her it was over, and that was that, that she had never really believed him. She blamed his sorrow on finally accepting his father's death and said that their love would come back to him once he had healed from that event. Gwen knew the pain that came from losing one so dear, and though they grieved in different ways she had attributed much of his lacking emotion to his hiding all feeling away while in pain.

"I just never believed you could do this to me." She told him, voice hitching with her withheld sobs. Part of him wanted to hate her for making him hate himself. Arthur knew this was all he could do, help her through as a friend and tell her once and again that he could not change his mind because it was not just his mind which felt this way. "I still believe you love me. You may not feel it now, but somewhere –" Gwen laid a palm on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. "–You do love me. And when you remember, you only need to tell me. I'll forget all about this. I'd do anything, Arthur." A quiet gasp shook her. "I understand we cannot be together now. I will let you sort yourself, and I will be here."

"That's not what I'm asking from you. I need you to move on and be happy alone or, eventually, with–"

"It doesn't matter what you're asking. I need to be honest with you the same way you need to be honest with me. Do you want to be with someone else?" She glanced away, then back to him. She had asked this many times over the past months as well.

He fought back a sigh of irritation and didn't roll his eyes. "No. I don't know. I'm not doing this because I do, though. Perhaps I will eventually." He left unsaid that he simply couldn't be with her anymore, that they were what wasn't working. It was true, he didn't have eyes for anyone else in particular, but he didn't hate the notion of new love after months trapped in a one-sided and stale relationship. He felt guilty thinking this, and knew the information would only hurt Gwen.

"I think that would be the only thing that could show me that you were ready for love and truly not in love with me anymore. I would move on then." She was weeping truly, tears making several tracks from each deep brown eye as if she needed to release them too quickly for them to file orderly out. He noticed things of this nature now when she cried, his emotions detached from the event. "But I hope you don't. It's selfish, but I want you to be happy only with me." A sad smile turned at her lips. "I'll move to the guest quarters, you shouldn't be sleeping away from your own bed."

"No, I'll move to my old rooms." He held up a hand to quiet her protests. "I would prefer to stay there anyway." His father's rooms brought him little comfort, and he couldn't count them as his own even now. Back to his princely suite, back to his own self, perhaps. It took strength not to wish her well or ask any more from her when he knew she was trying very hard not to react in a worse style.

"Goodbye, Arthur." She murmured, sitting as he left the room.

..XxXxX..

A/N: The title and any quotes I may add at the ends of chapters are from Ed Sheeran songs, he's wonderful. The title specifically is from an (incomplete) line in "Drunk", the chapter title is from "U.N.I".


	2. Pick You up when You're Getting Down

A/N: So this one will still begin with a small bit of Arthur/Gwen falling apart. They were a thing. I'm sorry! Constructive criticism is definitely allowed. I know this whole thing is a sort of jumble of scenes, but isn't that what life is? All of these moments that just add up to something that finally makes sense. Or don't ever add up at all, but so long as you enjoyed them then you cannot regret them.

Warning: There could be slashy stuff from here on.

..XxXxX..

**Summary of chapter one:** Arthur has fallen out of love with Gwen after being married for over two years. Though he has tried to stay with her, he no longer can. Gwen still loves him and is very hurt by this. Arthur allows her to live in Uther's old rooms.

..XxXxX..

In the past month, the castle would quiet around him. He was sure he didn't imagine the covert glances, as some who had come to love Guinevere wondered what had happened to make the Queen a queen no longer.

She had renounced the position, making it easier on Arthur, and those who did not accept her easily in the first place believed it was the right way of things. She did not have the lineage to be a queen, nor did she win the throne in an honorable fashion, and word passed that she was barren. The King would need to accept a new bride, one who would give him an heir.

Perhaps it was just too soon to force the King to take the next step, the whispers allowed, as he had thrown out the last lord who had brought his daughter to visit what he hoped would become her new kingdom.

Arthur wanted to tell his people that Gwen had never made him ashamed. That he believed himself to be unable to have children, not Gwen, after seeking advice from Gaius. Nothing was her fault, he simply had lost the depth of feeling he had believed he had for her. But she brought him round even in this, reminding him that Camelot needed a leader to love, and they did love him, and it would be selfish to tarnish that love.

She would visit him weekly just to hold his hand in hers, share a meal, and pretend that things were not irreparable between them. He allowed her this in exchange for assuaging his guilt for the length of their brief time together, but he could give her no more without feeling wrong. It was as if she was now a sister to him, he felt warmth toward her and wanted to take care of her, but there was no passion, no desire to touch his lips to hers, no want to take her back that did not stem from pity.

Gwen was graceful now in her sorrow. She retreated out of the public eye, afraid of their shaming looks or questions, and with the events finalized she had stopped begging for his love. She still cried, silent tears, when their time together was at an end. It made him feel uncomfortable, but he tried to be understanding. She asked him to wait to take another bride, and Arthur told her that he wasn't even thinking of other women at that time.

But it had been so long since he had stopped being in love with Gwen, and months since he had allowed more than a chaste kiss to pass between them. His fire may have gone for her, but he couldn't help that he was human. He didn't need a bride, he just needed someone in his bed.

..XxXxX..

A maid's blouse was open wide and low, exposing skin light from rarely seeing sun, as Arthur walked the last steps to his chambers. The trouble was, when he noticed things of this nature now, a feeling guilt would swell faster than his blood could change course. Gwen's tear-tracked face appeared in his mind's eye, and it was her he saw instead.

He turned away quickly, bumping heavily into the wall and scrambling to open his door, getting inside and slamming it closed with relief and humiliation warring inside of him. He was the king, he shouldn't feel this way!

Laughter greeted him, and humiliation won. He glared over at Merlin, who was pouring a cup of watered wine as a final touch to the small lunch he had set out.

"You look like you've been assaulted by a ghost!"

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur said, injecting as much ire as possible while settling himself in his seat. "What is the matter with the way the maids are dressing? Is it a new fashion to fall out of one's top? I'll have to put someone on creating a uniform."

"You are so oblivious." Merlin shook his head, smiling ear to ear.

"I really don't need your opinions today, Merlin. I should put you at the task, you'd have them all covered to their ears with neckerchiefs." He took a bite of badly-chopped apple. For all his experience over the years, it was like Merlin refused to learn his position, or even how to properly serve. Not that Arthur minded, given that he always took his mind away from whatever Arthur was thinking too deeply about, but it would be nice to have a hot meal and a properly cleaned up room as well. "Those trousers have been on the floor next to the bed for a week now." He commented.

"You know the maids dress like that to get your attention." Merlin said, almost gently. He seemed unsure how to go about what he was saying. "They think…"

"They think what?" A knot formed in his stomach.

"That if you – well, if you fell for a maid once, you may again." Merlin fiddled with the wine jug's decorative handle.

Arthur tried not to allow that to make sense. "It's not a position waiting to be filled. I'm not looking for a replacement."

"I know, Arthur." Merlin said, invoking the name as he often did to remind Arthur how close he was, and that Arthur was not alone. "They don't understand what happened. No one really does."

Arthur said nothing, looking down at the table.

"Sometimes things just don't work." Merlin continued, looking for words of comfort within himself. He had never been in that position, and he rarely was in the role of comforter. "We just have to take each thing as it comes, and enjoy it while it's there."

"I did it. I broke it off. I know." Arthur replied quietly.

"I know." Merlin echoed. Arthur was never as hard to understand as he thought he was, not for Merlin. And Merlin had been the only one to see him at the worst of the struggle. "We just have to… You just have to…"

"Leave it. Go wash my things, Merlin." His voice was tired, and Merlin obeyed only after a hesitant pause.

Arthur felt that much worse for noticing what the maid had wanted him to, he'd have to have only male servants at this rate.

..XxXxX..

His guilt pushed his mind from the gowned forms looking for his favor, but his eyes had begun to stray on similar shapes. The thought of Gwen did not chase his eyes away from the lines of muscle in a knight's back, or the shadow beneath a jaw rough with stubble. He told himself he was just looking, that this was just because he couldn't focus on the only other gender as an option. That he wouldn't look otherwise, and that it was mere curiosity.

And so he allowed it of himself. He would find his hand tracing lines down his stomach, to the juncture of his hip, and back to center, lower, imagining vague masculine forms and harder kisses, a depth to the voice that told him exactly what it wanted from him, a hand that knew just what he needed. He found release in this, and an indistinct shame would nestle itself into the back of his mind. This was wrong. This was not what he should need, and it could never happen.

But that shame passed with the night. With morning, came Merlin.

It was just because he knew it wouldn't hurt, because nothing would ever come of it, Arthur assured himself. That was the only reason he allowed himself to notice that Merlin's voice had grown deeper recently. His jaw had become more pronounced, and he'd grown into his daft ears. His cheekbones had settled into this new structure, and he looked more ethereal than gaunt.

And his new muscular stature. That was certainly a development; Arthur wasn't sure how he'd managed running his armor all over and carrying packs everywhere before without the lithe form he'd now achieved. His clothing had been let out around the shoulders to accommodate the wider set, but his trousers were much tighter around the bum without any adjustment there, Arthur believed.

He was just another person. A person could be attractive, it wasn't a crime to think so. No matter if they were your servant. Or your best friend. Or any of the other 'or's he refused to think on.

"Come on, time to get up, Sunshine!" Merlin sing-songed, pulling back the drapes and standing by Arthur's bed.

"Never call me that again." Arthur groaned, feeling he'd just been pulled from a very good dream. "I'm absolutely not getting up, either."

"You must, I've brought your breakfast and it's still hot, up!" He tugged down the blanket.

"You can't tell me what to do, Merlin." Arthur reminded.

Merlin grinned, causing a heat which had no business pooling in Arthur's stomach. "Someone's got to, and if I don't dress you now you'll be walking around the castle without a shirt for the rest of the day. I'm sure the maids would only try that much harder, Arthur, so as you can see –" He grabbed Arthur's bare shoulder and pulled him into a sitting position. "I'm only doing this for your protection. Now get. Up."

"I can get myself out of bed." He said crossly, standing and stretching while trying not to think of Merlin's hands on his bare skin.

"Well, don't learn to do anything else alone or I'm out a job." He teased as he dodged the sleeping trousers Arthur threw at him.

"It's cold, where are my clothes?" Arthur picked at sausage Merlin had brought him, it was warm at best.

Merlin grabbed new trousers and an open, cream-color shirt. This was both the worst and best part of Arthur's morning, seeing Merlin at his feet, pulling up and lacing his breeches. Of course he could do that much himself, as he did this to undress, but Arthur had never stopped him. At first he'd like the power in having someone do everything for him, but now he just imagined the process reversed. Merlin looked up at him with a smile. "Quiet today. I like it."

Arthur rolled his eyes, shoving him away. He knew his friend was trying to get a reaction out of him, but if he stayed in his current position it wouldn't be the one he was looking for. Merlin stood and took the shirt, bunching it and pulling it over Arthur's stretched arms and then his head before tugging it into an acceptable position. He moved to tie the lace at the top, and Arthur batted his hands away, sitting as if he was too hungry to be bothered with having his shirt tied up.

There was something strangely intimate in his dealings with Merlin now, and it created a tension that he was worried Merlin would begin to sense. He forgot how to react around him, and he feared what he would do.

He wasn't sure if Merlin would be able to turn him away without looking at Arthur differently. And even more of him feared that Merlin might not tell him no out of his peculiar, randomly shown sense of duty. No matter if Arthur felt he would burst in the worst possible way if he didn't get off with someone soon, he would not allow it to be Merlin.

..XxXxX..

Arthur couldn't stop his own mind any longer. He'd see lips and imagine kissing them, a thin form and imagine running his hands across it, long fingers and imagine them sneaking past the laces of his breeches.

It was so unseemly, staring at Merlin's backside as he searched under the table for the grapes Arthur had purposely let fall from his plate, wondering how it would feel against his palm. Watching him as he reached long arms up to bring a cloth around the top of his wardrobe, the white skin of his abdomen peeking between his shirt and trousers. And if Merlin knew Arthur's eyes never left him, well, it was only because Arthur was insulting him all the while.

At least he hoped sincerely that was what Merlin believed, naïve, bumbling Merlin. He could ask Merlin to do a task, and, though he may grumble, Merlin would. Arthur couldn't help but take advantage, all he could stop himself from was asking the manservant to do more than his position entailed. Though he had thought of it.

Not simply because he wanted to ask, but because he trusted Merlin. He couldn't proposition just anyone, it needed to be someone who could keep quiet. Not that Merlin could keep a secret usually, but if circumstance meant that it was necessary, perhaps he could. Because if Merlin said no, and he would, then at least he may tell no one he'd been offered.

But the voice of reason, which told him that Merlin was his friend and that should mean more to him than groping and kissing and fingers and tongues, was still winning out.

..XxXxX..

_"This is the start of something beautiful_

_This is the start of something new_

_You are the one that makes me lose it all"_

_This_ by Ed Sheeran

A/N: Chapter title from "Lego House".


	3. On the Right Side of the Wrong Bed

A/N: This one's a bit short compared to previous. I do hope you like it, I enjoyed writing it! If you did like something about it, please take the time to leave a review. I don't just need my ego pumped up (though that's nice too), I'd really like to know what you enjoyed so I can decide where to continue with the story!

..XxXxX..

The first time Arthur saw Gwen with Lancelot after their marriage had ended, it had been mostly shock that made him pause in his steps. For the first moment, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It had been over a month since she had stopped coming to see him once a week, had stopped reaching for his hands as they parted ways. Adrenaline shot through him in the same manner as it did upon first recognizing a threat in a duel. His hands shook slightly. His stomach tightened. His breath quickened.

He did not react, did not go and speak to her as she walked the corridor ahead of him, oblivious to his presence. Lancelot stood only a bit too close for casually walking a lady about the castle. Arthur reminded his hammering heart that it was the one that chose not to love Gwen. It was what knew he needed to let her go. It could not be upset when she finally took his advice and tried to move on.

But move on with Lancelot?

Something dark whispered doubts into Arthur's mind. Had she always loved Lancelot? Had she ever loved him? Had she wanted out just as desperately as he did and still made him disgusted with himself for being unable to love her?

Betrayal and anger tasted of bile in his mouth. He could not move, or he wasn't sure what he would do. In that moment he wanted to hate Gwen for falling into the knight's arms, wanted to hate Lancelot even as he knew the man had tried at every turn to lead his queen back to him. And she was his queen no longer. He had no right to the anger thrumming through each pulse point.

Arthur tried to be happy for her. He did want this. He wanted her to find someone who could help to ease the pain he had left for her. He just hadn't expected it to happen for her so soon, and he selfishly felt replaced.

After a few minutes of slowing his breathing, logic took up residence in his mind once more. This was good. It did not feel good, and he may not like it, but it would help Gwen. He felt almost relieved as he pushed the possessive monster out of his mind, he just had to think of not hearing Gwen put words to his self-hatred any longer. She would be alright. He would be alright. There truly was hope.

Maybe he could get off with a girl now without feeling guilty.

He ignored the hollowness in this thought, putting a smile on his face and walking back the way he had come.

..XxXxX..

Of course Arthur was absolutely roaring drunk. It was his birthday, and he'd had unwatered wine and ale until he felt he would burst, yelling for all to enjoy the festivities and making a fool of himself because there was no one to stop him. His father wasn't there to stop him. Gwen wasn't there to stop him. Merlin could try all he pleased to stop him, he wasn't about to start listening to his advice now.

"Sire, if you don't stop now Percival and Gwaine are going to carry you to your rooms." Merlin murmured low in his ear so those celebrating nearest to Arthur wouldn't hear him speaking out of his place. His tone was warning, trying to mask the concern Arthur still found there.

"And if I stop now will you carry me instead?" Arthur replied without thinking, turning to grin at his servant, their faces mere inches apart.

Merlin smiled back, rolling his eyes. "Come on, you." He took the tankard from Arthur's hand, settling it back on the table in a gesture that could have meant the mug was empty and he would be refreshing it.

Arthur stood capably, walking with little grace but no missteps up the long distance to his chamber, pausing to wait at intervals.

"Why do you keep stopping, Arthur?" Merlin asked, putting a gentle hand on the other man's shoulder to guide him.

"You're not keeping up. You're supposed to be escorting me to my chambers, and you're doing a very poor job of it." Arthur looked half serious, the corners of his lips crooking upward for only a moment.

"I think you could walk yourself just fine, should I head off?" Of course Merlin wouldn't let Arthur walk back to his rooms alone in this state, but Arthur didn't need to know that.

"You wouldn't let me walk back to my rooms in this state." Arthur reminded, knowing Merlin's mind even in his pissed state.

"I can't have you making a fool of yourself or having the guards undress you."

"I have hands. I can undress myself."

"And yet you're incapable of dressing yourself on your best days." Merlin chided gently, a smile undermining his words.

Arthur waved the guards away from his chambers, signaling that they could go about their nightly patrols. Merlin opened the door for him, standing back and about to bid his king goodnight. "Come undress me." Arthur sighed, as if realizing the chore really was too much for him.

Merlin fought to swallow, then tried rolling his eyes. "You cannot be serious."

"Come undress me or I'll have to have you executed for knowing I've slept in my clothing like a drunk." Arthur threatened.

"You _are_ drunk." Merlin pointed out, smiling and pushing him into the room.

"Yes." He answered simply. "A bit. But I'm royal as well, and you have to do what I say. So come inside and close the door."

Merlin did as he was bid, rolling his eyes again.

Arthur grinned, it brought something innocent to his eyes. Merlin smiled affectionately in response, sure his king would fail to notice.

"Undress me." Arthur ordered.

Dressing Arthur was part of the routine, now. Perhaps it had been awkward to start, like doing anything for him when he was always such a prat, but with the friendship that grew between them so grew an ability to simply be Arthur's second body, just an extension of the man. He fetched Arthur breakfast, then woke him, and while Arthur undressed, Merlin found a suitable outfit for the day, and they would dress Arthur in a joint effort. That was simply how it was. Merlin may find himself marveling at Arthur's form, or his fingers lingering when they found skin, but that was to be expected. He was an attractive man, the sort that was everyone's type. It was meaningless.

So unlike the bond between them. The trust that Arthur would accept him one day, the faith that he would become the king Albion needed, the insults and arguments that added interest to their conversations. The intimate moments of shared secrets and advice sought, so rare but so cherished.

Merlin couldn't put all of that aside. He couldn't risk losing Arthur by revealing how he wanted him, just the same as he couldn't risk revealing his true self. His magic and his desire would stay equally well hidden, never spoken of and used only when he knew Arthur couldn't notice.

"Undress yourself, Arthur." Merlin said with a sigh, attempting to look irritated while crossing his arms. "I'll wait here to make sure you make it into bed, but that's it."

"You're going to watch me undress, but you won't help me?" Arthur asked incredulously, tugging up his shirt alone anyway.

The dark haired man rolled his eyes in real exasperation, stalking forward to grab the cloth out of the king's hands and pull it roughly up and over his head. Blue eyes met with a challenge. "Continue." Arthur said, making no move to help himself out of his breeches.

Merlin reached forward, not breaking eye contact as he tugged at the laces there, then hooked his fingers between the fabric and skin at the juncture of Arthur's hips, pulling slowly down, waiting for Arthur to push him away.

Arthur looked down at Merlin's hands, then back up to his face as if searching for something. Merlin hesitated, waiting for Arthur's drink-addled mind to realize the line they were crossing. Arthur gripped Merlin's wrist suddenly, stopping the motion just before he would be truly exposed.

"Do you want me to order you?" Arthur whispered.

Merlin tried very hard to understand what Arthur meant, but his mind was distracted by so many factors that all he could let out was an embarrassing "What?"

Arthur paused, as if trying to sober himself with a breath. "Do you want this?" He tugged lightly at Merlin's wrist, just a suggestion of a downward motion, brushing the heel of Merlin's palm where the laces of his trousers stopped.

Merlin felt both fear and arousal, together causing his hands shake. "Arthur, you're drunk." He repeated, apprehension and integrity telling him how very wrong taking advantage of Arthur's state would be.

"Yes." Arthur answered again, more confident now. "And I want this." He closed the distance between them, his bare chest brushing the fabric over Merlin's. "I want you. Just this once." Arthur's hands shook too, Merlin felt it as fingertips brushed over his jaw, down his neck.

"Just this once." Merlin echoed, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. Sober or no, he was having a hard time remembering why this was a bad idea. Arthur must have taken the words as agreement, his lips pressing to Merlin's lightly at first, and then with purpose.

..XxXxX..

Merlin felt a flash of something like nostalgia for another drunken moment, months back, when Arthur had been so angry with Gwen, but with Merlin he seemed to forget. He simply enjoyed himself, let himself be less than a king. More than a king, perhaps. A man. Arthur was always more than a king.

It had been afternoon, too early to be found with undiluted wine filling cup after cup between friends as Arthur ignored the rest of the world. He hadn't needed to ask Merlin to stay with him, he was just his old self and Merlin wanted to remember this version of him. There had been no orders. There had been no rules keeping them from laughing and teasing. For that stretch of time with the warm blur of drink clouding the future, they had just enjoyed being themselves together.

He remembered when he'd said something that surprised Arthur, and a moment later the king had tilted back his head and guffawed in a way he allowed himself only in private. Merlin had fought to prolong the moment, caught by a need to see this vulnerability for just a bit longer, and had continued on the same vein, Arthur laughing all the more. After a minute of holding his sides, Arthur leaned toward Merlin and just rested his forehead against Merlin's shoulder, a friendly (if too informal for average conduct) gesture.

It was a light touch, with a wide, contented smile on Arthur's face, and he looked so very human. So normal. So unlike a king who could have him killed if Merlin embarrassed him. Merlin's fingers had moved of their own volition, trailing over Arthur's hair where it rested on his jacket. Arthur's grin had crooked up just a bit more, then he had moved away, the moment passing but not lost.

..XxXxX..

_"You know I'll never change (...)_  
_All by myself_  
_I'm just drunk again (...)_  
_To feel a little love."_

_Drunk -_ Ed Sheeran

A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone! Review if you have a moment. I have one more chapter already written out, but I'd like to add something to it before posting and feedback will help me decide what that something should be. The next chapter is my personal favorite, more Merthur!


	4. From Lust to Truth

Chapter four:

A/N: Please, if you like this, take a second to tell me. I really like this chapter, and I have about 3/4ths of the next one written out. I've never had reviews come in so far and few between, perhaps fandom has changed in my absence or this story isn't up to my old par. Let me know what you think! I really appreciate the reviews I've gotten so far.

..XxXxX..

Gwen never smiled at Arthur as she used to. Her expression seemed as if she were weighing him now, and sometimes he would catch her staring at his profile, brow furrowed, as if she were trying to figure him out. After their time together, it felt odd to Arthur that he believed she really didn't know parts of him at all. And though it struck him as unusual, he was glad of it when she began to just speak to him again.

He had missed her. It was nice to see her in the friendly light he had been unable to during the time she had kept a distance or even those long months of guilt prior to that. Arthur was content to have her back in this facet.

Merlin always seemed to turn up when Arthur would walk the castle speaking with her as they used to, Arthur supposed Merlin had missed her too as she had kept away from Merlin at the same time as she had put distance between Arthur and herself. That was it, Merlin must miss his friend.

He did have a reason to pull Arthur away with him quite a lot after turning up out of nowhere, though, and normally not a very good one. Arthur was often glad to be removed from Gwen's presence before she could find whatever she was searching for in his face.

And if Arthur would not go with Merlin, they would end up being prattish toward each other to the point that Gwen would often roll her eyes with a worn smile and excuse herself from the "arguments of boys".

Arthur would apologize even as he continued to argue or bully, knowing Merlin brought out the worst in him.

..XxXxX..

Arthur knew now why he had stayed with Gwen for so long, beyond image and beyond doubt of his own feelings. Sometimes it had been good. And those good moments, those moments were he didn't remind himself he was hurting her and just enjoyed that space of time, made it easier to ignore the fracture between them.

Sometimes he felt he lived in little moments, all of the work of being King Arthur someone else entirely pulling his body this way and that like a puppet. His little moments now were just as enjoyable, spent mostly behaving like a prat when in the company of a man who could not complain loudly enough about it, or simply watching Merlin when he was pointedly ignoring him.

In the days that followed Arthur didn't speak of the night that he had finally gotten what he wanted from the dark haired man, and Merlin seemed set on doing the same. But Arthur felt the same need simmering, unsatisfied by the single event and drawing up half-remembered images, sounds, scents to drive him to distraction. It was more difficult for Arthur to deny himself when he had already given in.

Mere days passed until his logic had devolved into arguments with himself that once was not really different from twice. That giving in would be nothing new and therefore no additional shame.

His hands did not need reasons when they snuck beneath Merlin's shirt, surprising him and causing him to jolt away from the unusual touch.

Merlin looked at him quizzically, and Arthur tried his best to look confident. He would not be rejected. He had never been rejected. "Your hand is cold." Merlin said instead of addressing what had happened.

Arthur advanced, erasing all distance between them. "I'll warm soon enough." A fear Arthur had been trying to push from his mind evaporated with the heat of Merlin's next glance. It was easy to fall into this, these new moments were just that: moments between all it took to be a king. A way of relief. A means of release. Something to occupy his time.

..XxXxX..

No matter how many times Merlin chided Arthur for behaving like a spoilt child, he knew the King knew no better. He'd never truly had a childhood. Not the sort Merlin remembered, running and playing and splashing, climbing trees just to feel the joy of your own muscles pulling you up and up, calling names and fighting just to make up when the next game started. Perhaps this was why Arthur dueled so diligently, why he hunted for sport, why he sought companionship in the only person in the kingdom that dared to call him names.

Merlin would show him a childhood, and help him grow into the leader he was destined to become. Or at the very least, he would help him enjoy himself.

A ride that was meant to be between Gwen and Arthur (and therefore became Gwen, Arthur, and Merlin) just to get away from the court turned into an afternoon picking berries in the forest. Somewhere along the line after an argument with Merlin where he certainly did not have the better point, even if he had the last word, Arthur had begun throwing the berries he didn't want in Gwen's general vicinity. "Is that mold?" He asked before tossing it her way, the action solely playful.

"That's disgusting." She quickly reprimanded, her attitude dwindling farther from her usual kind happiness as the minutes passed. "Stop it this instant." This time he'd thrown one with some dead bug near her.

"Oh, fine." He turned the other way and threw a perfectly good one to hit Merlin in the ear.

Without no forethought or reluctance Merlin returned fire, the game rapidly becoming very competitive as they each found the most overripe berries. They laughed tightly, hands cut from thorns and stained from berry juices.

Neither noticed when Gwen announced she was leaving, they were now to the stage where they'd dodge behind anything they could before launching another volley of artillery at each other.

Arthur stood, out of breath from laughing and running and throwing and generally acting like the child he'd never been allowed to be, behind a large tree. Easily hearing Merlin nearing his hiding place, he snuck around the side and smashed a handful of berries in the Merlin's face, chuckling darkly as he turned to run. Merlin caught his wrist, tugging him back with surprising strength while wiping the fruit from his face. He stuffed it down the back of Arthur's shirt as Arthur tried his best to push him away. After the deed was done Arthur shoved him and Merlin raised his hands in surrender. "I yield!" He exclaimed, backing into the tree behind him.

"You can't yield, I've won." Arthur stated in a teasing tone. "You've got something on your face."

"Really?" He wiped a small spot next to his nose. "Have I got it?" He jested in return.

"If you have your face is much more unattractive than I remembered." Arthur moved closer and made quick work of the seeds coating the high cheek bones, faintly tinged pink—from more than simply the berry if the heat meant anything. The king realized what he'd done and stepped away, not breaking eye-contact for several long seconds. He cleared his throat and looked guilty. "I think it's time to go in."

Merlin followed him wordlessly. This was something that was never to leave Arthur's room, not even on a venture alone in the woods. They were unprotected here, and even if he knew what would likely come hours after supper, he felt something like a loss for what could not be elsewhere.

..XxXxX..

On freezing nights he sometimes let Merlin stay. It was cold, and he'd rather a night with a body-sized heating pan that never chilled. Until said heating pan inevitably drew to his warmth in the middle of the night.

"Merlin, shift it." Arthur grumbled, pushing the other man.

Merlin curled to his side. "Feet are cold."

"Off." Arthur shoved as hard as one could with muscles that were convinced he was still sleeping. Which was to say not very.

"Mm-mm."

"You are sweating on me. Sweating. Your sweat. On me."

"Sh-sh-sh." Fingers reached for Arthur's mouth, finding his cheek instead and resting there. Merlin seemed to immediately fall back asleep.

It had been freezing. His back was still very cold. And yet the area between Merlin and himself was warmer than bath water fresh off the fire. Arthur tugged the blanket half-heartedly off of Merlin, which only served to make the dark haired man latch to his side as if Arthur's body heat was the only thing saving him from hypothermia.

Finally, he gave up, throwing the blanket back over Merlin and pulling it off of his own leg and arm, doomed to pull it back on and then throw it off again in a cycle until he could fall asleep, half sweaty, half frozen. It just wasn't worth the effort to keep shoving him away. But he definitely didn't enjoy these moments, especially with the contented little smile tugging at Merlin's lips, even as he drifted through dreams.

..XxXxX..

There was a tension in the halls between them. When Merlin would walk side by side with his king, he'd feel his hand moving as if of its own accord, stretching further than necessary, attempting to graze knuckles against Arthur's as they walked.

He told himself it was ridiculous. It wasn't as if he wanted to hold hands with him, he wasn't a girl. And he didn't want the whole kingdom thinking something that wasn't true, he didn't want to make Arthur choose to push him away in order to protect his image as king.

He just couldn't help that his heart stuttered a quicker beat when skin brushed skin, lighting fire in a path up his forearm, starting a blush he tried to suppress on the peaks of his cheekbones. He didn't understand why he fought for this, why even this was worth risking so much, and he couldn't stop himself.

..XxXxX..

Merlin scared himself tonight. Arthur had fallen quickly to sleep, uncaring whether Merlin stayed the night through or too tired to argue, and for the first time Merlin found he could not keep his eyes closed. Something warm and deep huddled in his chest, Merlin was imagining it as a little dragon, puffing contentedly there.

This image didn't stop the feeling from keeping him awake. He rolled toward Arthur, looking at him, knowing how annoyed Arthur would be if he woke him and thinking about risking it anyway. He wasn't sure why, Merlin felt he had something to say.

He was less than horrified when he realized what it was. He wanted to tell Arthur the truth.

Merlin knew Arthur better than he'd ever known anyone, he knew most of his expressions and could now tell just what Arthur wanted by the varied sound of his moans. And Arthur believed he knew Merlin just as well.

Merlin felt certain Arthur could learn to accept his magic.

"Arthur." Merlin murmured. "I have magic. And I use it to save your life. And sometimes to shine your armor and such."

Arthur continued to breathe evenly, sleeping on.

"I couldn't ever hurt you, you clotpole. So you'd better not think that's why I've kept it hidden." Merlin looked up toward the hangings next to the bed, bidding them to fall securely around the bed, as if to make a world just for Arthur and himself inside of them. They did as directed after a flash of gold in his eyes, and Merlin looked guiltily to Arthur's sleeping form even as he felt a rush of excitement at performing magic when he knew he could be caught. "I just can't let you lose me. And I can't lose you either. We have to be together for Albion. And because if we're not…" Merlin looked away again, unable to speak even to an unconscious Arthur about this.

"Well, you know. Cabbagehead." Even the mocking word sounded nothing but fond, and Merlin did try to resist touching Arthur's cheek. Tried and failed.

"What did you call me?" Arthur's husky, just-woken voice shot something straight to his groin, and for a moment he wondered if Arthur had heard the whole thing. Dred and excitement pined for his attention as Arthur's hand reached up and cupped Merlin's to his cheek, eyes barely open.

"Cabbagehead?" Merlin whispered, daring to hope for so many things at once.

"Mm." Arthur answered, hand gliding down Merlin's arm to his side, his hip, his thigh, then back, coming to rest kneading his ass roughly. Merlin may have been hoping for something else, but he would take this instead.

Arthur shifted toward him, eyes still heavily lidded with sleep even as they followed the path his hand had taken, catching just below his navel before flitting up to his eyes.

The hand on Arthur's cheek snaked behind his neck, fingers grasping hair and tugging him forward into a kiss that was all teeth and tongues and need.

The dragon in his chest breathed hot fire into his veins, and Merlin was exhilarated and alive in this. He was insatiable, ignoring that the space that ached to be filled was nearer the nipple Arthur had caught in his mouth than where his fingers teased.

For now, this was enough. He would make this enough.

..XxXxX..

_"Your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck_

_I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet_

_And with a feeling I'll forget_

_I'm in love now"_

_Kiss Me –_ Ed Sheeran

A/N: Please do review, this chapter is my favorite yet and I'd like to know what people would like next. I could end it in another chapter, and it might feel a bit cheap, or go on for two or more and fill it out?


	5. It's Not Complicated

A/N: This chapter was insanely difficult for me to finish. I had about 1600 words done when I posted up the last one, but no matter what I added to this it felt incomplete for a chapter. So it ended up being about twice as long as the previous chapters, and that's after I took out some adorable parts and added them to the next chapter, where they fit better.

Please let me know what you think, the next chapter will likely be the last one (perhaps with an epilogue after).

..XxXxX..

Arthur realized he had never been with a person other than Merlin since his separation from Gwen. It hadn't been a conscious decision. It continued to make sense to him: one affair was easier to manage than bedding the whole castle.

But he did wonder at the fact that the idea hadn't occurred to him. After he had Merlin, he hadn't looked for anything else. Perhaps he was simply content to find release and didn't need anything else. Or perhaps he was so used to being allowed only one person, as it was with Guinevere, that he hadn't searched for anything beyond it.

Now it was only Merlin. If the other man was missing when Arthur wanted company, he did not think of finding someone else, he waited impatiently. He was used to his manservant's company was all it was. He had nothing to worry about with him.

..XxXxX..

Merlin's breath was still coming hard and fast as beads of sweat rolled down his neck and into the hollow of his clavicle. He refrained, just barely, from telling Arthur how amazing he had just felt. How amazing he still felt. He was sure the grin on his face and the softness in his eyes said it more eloquently, and with no fear of rejection included.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin, "Good?"

"It was alright." Merlin acquiesced, smile quirking more to the right as he fought it back to mock Arthur.

Arthur leaned over and bit Merlin's neck, right below his jaw. Hard.

"Ow!" Merlin tried to pull away, but was quickly grabbed and pinned.

"Now, when I say 'good', you say…?" Arthur tried again, his whisper attempting to sound dangerous.

"Painful? That actually hurt, Arthur." He whined, trying to move his arm to rub the sensitive area.

"Incorrect." Arthur nipped lightly just under his last bite.

"Terrible." Merlin was smiling again.

"No." Arthur's teeth scraped skin just a bit lower, down to the juncture at his shoulder.

"Somewhat… tolerable?" His heart picked up speed again.

"Hmm. Try again." Arthur left a mark on his shoulder.

"Pleasant?" Merlin gasped.

"Close." The tip of Arthur's tongue traced a soothing line across the marks.

"Wonderful." The tongue stopped, and Arthur's lips began to trek the same path, making a trail down his chest and pausing at his abdomen as Arthur looked up at him expectantly. "Nearly perfect."

Arthur bit his hipbone and moved to lay at Merlin's side again, a smug grin on his face. Merlin glared at him.

"You'll just have to try harder in the future, Arthur. You're almost there." Merlin said, more than a little frustrated, and though Arthur knew an attempt to provoke him when he saw it, he still leaned in to bite Merlin's lip.

"I do love a challenge. You've got quite a bit of work to do yourself." Arthur teased.

"First lesson, biting: how hard is too hard." Merlin bit Arthur's shoulder, and the blond let out an immediate irrepressible moan. "Just hard enough." Merlin murmured in a low voice.

"Perfect." Arthur replied, already breathless.

..XxXxX..

"You are so predictable, Arthur. You have no idea how well I know you. You think you have changed so very much and that is why you don't love me, but it's not true. You haven't changed at all, and that's the problem." Gwen's voice was full of venom and nothing Arthur was expecting. She had barged into his chambers not an hour after Merlin had left him for the night.

He disagreed, but was unsure whether to say so aloud. He was usually fairly good at holding in his anger when it mattered, this likely stemmed from years of taking orders from his father even when he vehemently opposed the command. "I have changed. And I'm not sure where all of this is coming from, perhaps you have changed as well." Arthur tried to sound diplomatic, hoping his apparent calm would wear off.

"What you are doing to Merlin is exactly what you did to me. You live on the excitement, Arthur. You were a prince who always listened to your father, and what he wanted most was to marry you off to someone that would strengthen his kingdom. You went for me because I was the opposite of that, a lowly serving girl whose father died accused of witchcraft. Now your father is not here to disapprove of you, and your people are harder to upset so you must increase your commitment.

"You go for a servant again, but this time a man. This time a sorcerer himself, Lancelot has told me." She held up a hand as Arthur's expression turned incredulous. This was not her point in coming here, though perhaps it would help him to let Merlin go. "Arthur, you will break his heart to feel alive because it will fade with him just the same! When he is accepted, and he deserves to be, you will be disenchanted. And it will not fade for him. And you will push him away and look for the next thrill, though I cannot think of what it could be." Her voice broke as she seemed torn between anger and sadness. "Don't do this to him. Don't make him just another brief part of your life while he makes you into everything. We all give so much for you, Arthur, and we always will. He always will. But let him keep himself. Let him go, perhaps it isn't too late. I only wish I'd had the courage when I saw this starting."

Anger settled deep in Arthur's chest. "You don't understand at all."

"I've been on his side of it, Arthur, I understand it better than you can. You've always had whatever and whoever you wanted, you forget the pain I've lived. I cannot. I will remember forever, as long as I will love you." She gave him a small smile, the sort you might give a child who had tried to do something very grown up but failed at it completely. "If I could go back and never have married you, I would. If I could make it so I never felt love for you, Arthur, and you could still be the king you are, I swear with all my heart I would. I wouldn't wish this feeling on Merlin. If you feel you care half as much for him as I see you try to, you will help him let you go."

..XxXxX..

Arthur woke to the feeling of lips pressed to his shoulder, soft, barely-there kisses to his chest then up the line of his throat, his chin, his jaw, the highest point of his cheek. A light smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling gently at the corner even without him opening his eyes. "Kiss me." He mumbled.

"I am." Merlin replied, a hint of mocking in his whispered tone.

"I mean _kiss me_, you prat."

"So much clearer." But Arthur felt the mirroring smile on Merlin's lips as they met his.

A tenderness he previously thought was unfitting to hold for the other man stole into his heart, and he grinned even as he kept the kiss light. Half asleep, he could allow sweetness to be a part of what they shared. He cherished it only in secret.

He opened his eyes to see Merlin's had closed as if to better use his tactile senses. His heart fluttered as Merlin's fingertips brushed against his bare chest, his palm coming to rest in the sprinkling of deep blond hair found at the center. Merlin hummed low in his throat as their lips separated, looking back into Arthur's eyes for just a moment before he lowered his face to Arthur's chest. He pressed a single kiss to the skin and muscle over Arthur's fluttering heart. Arthur shifted, moving his arm around Merlin's waist and looking down at his messy black hair, forgetting to wonder how he'd ended up like this. In this position. With this man. Feeling like this.

Perhaps it is time for everything to change. Nothing could be out of his reach, nothing was forbidden to him. So long as it was what Merlin wanted as well.

..XxXxX..

The law had finally changed, Arthur had decided to allow the use of magic, under strict regulations. It could not be practiced within the citadel or lower town, in order to keep the mishaps to a low level and note any attacks that were magic-based. This would likely drive all that had hidden their gifts within the walls of the castle and lower town to villages where they could make a living in peace.

Even with the small distance between himself and those using magic, Merlin could feel it down into his bones, in his blood, in each breath, a song of freedom buzzing in the air as power surged from all corners of the kingdom. It felt like celebration. It felt beautiful. This would truly be Camelot's golden age, even without a queen currently in the throne beside their magnanimous king.

Merlin could not push the smile from his face that morning, even as he sat at Arthur's table while the king picked at his food. "What has you so excited, Merlin?" He asked in a mocking tone, shoving his plate away.

"Many people will be spared that were executed." He replied. Still, he could not tell Arthur the truth. He knew the King's feelings on magic had changed, and that Gwen had convinced him never to execute or banish another person based on who they were or who they aided. But Merlin had lied to him over many years, and that he wasn't sure Arthur could forgive.

"It's part of my trial for peace with Guinevere. She asked for this, and it will hopefully drain all strength away from armies such as Morgana's. Without seeing me as a tyrant unwilling to see that magic can help just as surely as it has harmed, fewer people will feel they should have me killed. I hope. A ban can only help a kingdom when one can simply forbid an act or item and it goes away. As it has been explained to me, magic is not one of those things. If it will not fade and instead wells up to defy me, then perhaps the law was a long time coming to this change." Arthur was staring down at the table, looking concerned. "Or perhaps the freedom to practice will elevate the power used against us and I've just doomed my kingdom."

"We have beaten every magical force so far." Merlin reminded.

"I will use magic against itself, if it comes to that. Surely there are those who will help me. I don't believe every person that practices magic is evil, and I can't be blinded by fear or hatred any longer. I must learn to trust, as you have." Arthur looked up at him pointedly.

"…I'm sorry?" Merlin asked, his stomach dropping to his feet.

Arthur paused a moment, and Merlin felt fear as he never had before. "It was years ago, but you cannot expect me to forget. Your best friend was a sorcerer. You still trusted him with your life, and he helped you. He saved my life, for you." There was wariness to the tone, but something almost tender there as well.

"Yes." Merlin agreed with relief.

It only occurred to him hours later that in that moment, perhaps Arthur would have listened. He could have ended the lie.

If he could stop fearing losing the man, he could be honest with his king.

..XxXxX..

Falling in love was terrible. Merlin was never happy with anything anymore. He'd very nearly thrown his ale at the bard that dared sing in his vicinity that love was to be treasured, that it filled one up and completed them. Merlin was complete all by himself, thank you, and adding Arthur in only caused problems.

To be fair, Merlin thought perhaps it would be different if Arthur felt the same things for him.

Arthur was so uncomplicated. He saw something he wanted, like Merlin's body for whatever reason, and he took it. He gave nothing in return. Well, he gave his own body, but he didn't do something stupid like throw his heart in with the deal.

It had felt like such a relief to not hide his attraction from Arthur, but this was an even bigger secret, and Merlin wondered if it wouldn't just crush him one day. Where his secret of having magic was something that he rarely wanted to reveal unless he wanted credit for something, it was often hard in the moment to stop his mouth from setting him on what would surely be the path to suicide. Arthur could not know.

"Merlin, are you planning to drown yourself in that or drink it?" Lancelot asked, nudging him with an elbow.

Merlin glared at his ale. He didn't even like to drink, he hated the feeling of losing control. Not least because it often led to terrible singing that in turn led to being the butt of jokes for weeks. "It smells like poison." Merlin replied glumly.

Lancelot's brows rose as he smiled.

"Well, it is poison. It dulls your wits." Merlin continued a bit defensively. "We just choose the poison that takes away our control and blame it when we do something reckless and embarrassing. We feel excited in the moment, but sick on regret the next day."

Lancelot pulled the mug away from him. "I think you've had enough."

"I haven't had any!"

"Just as well. Are we talking about ale or… something else?" He knew more about Merlin than Arthur did in some respects, Merlin realized not for the first time. He felt a twinge of guilt at having ignored Lancelot so much during the past months, Arthur had never forgiven the knight, regardless of the fighter he was or how loyal he had shown himself to be toward Camelot. And Merlin knew Arthur did not like him to see Lancelot. But the man was a true friend to him, even if he had a blind-spot in his loyalty when it came to Gwen. That was what love really looked like, Merlin realized.

"Both." Merlin said.

"Arthur?" Lancelot asked knowingly, humor in the word. "He's not poisoning you, is he?"

Merlin sighed, pulling the ale back to him to sniff it and pull a face at the sharp alcohol scent. "No. He's just terrible all the time. I try to make him less of an idiot, it's just impossible for him."

"I thought the two of you were getting on better? Gwen seems to think so as well." Merlin wasn't sure how Gwen knew, or if she was the one to tell Lancelot, but Merlin felt he had their blessing to try for whatever stupid thing he was currently aiming at.

"We do. Sometimes. Mostly. But I can't make it something it isn't. He has a use for me, I'm being useful, that's how it has always been for us."

"If you're never willing to risk what you have then it's unlikely you'll find something more." Lancelot thought he was Kilgharrah when he'd had a few, Merlin decided.

"I'd rather this than nothing." That thought was what now kept Merlin up nights, more so than his desire for Arthur to know about his magic. He didn't want to ruin what he had, but he wasn't sure he could have only this. Only, as if Arthur's palm resting on Merlin's stomach as he slept, fingers occasionally fretting through the hair that began in a line there, was a small thing to have.

..XxXxX..

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur questioned Gwaine, setting his sword aside and pulling free his helmet. He needed someone to take his armor off of him, Merlin always got on so perfectly it was difficult for him to remove it.

"At the tavern." Gwaine replied with a little grin.

"Alone?" Merlin hadn't been at the tavern in a few months as far as Arthur knew. "I thought you'd be with him. You use any excuse to misuse my treasury."

"I don't live at the tavern, Sire." The knight said with a mocking grin. "And he isn't alone, he wanted time with Lancelot. I said I'd keep you occupied so you didn't walk in on them. They're talking over something important."

Arthur was sure Gwaine was trying to provoke him into saying or doing something stupid, and he wouldn't let it work. "What is that?" He tried to sound airy about it. He tried not to be bothered that it was Lancelot of all people that Merlin was speaking with. Not that there was anything wrong with Lancelot, now that he was keeping Gwen happy when Arthur couldn't, but he could never fully forget the feeling of wanting to smash his face in when he caught the other man with Gwen. And Merlin was supposed to be his friend. So he should dislike Lancelot just a little bit with him, and not trust him and talk to him on his own. No, that was terrible, kings never felt that way.

Perhaps he was concerned more for Gwen. That wouldn't be improper of him. "Does Gwen mind?" He continued when Gwaine had not responded to his previous question.

"Why would she?" Arthur hated when a question was answered with a question. It was obvious he was encouraging curiosity until it drove Arthur mad.

"Because she and Lancelot are together and he's at the tavern with Merlin alone."

"It's the tavern. They aren't alone. But if you're so interested in the tavern we could pop in for a drink, paid for by your royal treasury." Gwaine winked, clapping Arthur's back, having won what he sought. Arthur could only hope he would have harsher words said to him by Merlin or Lancelot later for leading him right to where they were.

..XxXxX..

"Let's have four of the usuals, thanks!" Gwaine's familiar voice yelled from just inside the tavern door. Merlin looked up, raising his brows at Arthur walking in behind the knight.

For a moment Arthur scanned the room, and when his eyes met Merlin's, Merlin knew he had been searching for him.

"I'm paying for his drinks." Arthur said as if this explained anything. A confused glance later, he continued. "He did… very well today. And I need your help with something."

"Let me just finish this cup." Merlin replied, sending an apologetic look to Lancelot.

"No, now, Merlin." Arthur insisted in his gruff 'I'm the king' tone. Merlin reluctantly stood, Lancelot patting his back goodbye and waving as Gwaine shoved into the seat Merlin had just abandoned, all four drinks pressed against his chest.

..XxXxX..

"What was so important?" Merlin demanded when they reached Arthur's chambers, the walk there being one of indignant silence. "I was in the middle of something."

"Something with Lancelot?" Arthur's tone was almost dangerous.

"A conversation, Arthur, yes." He rolled his eyes. "Did you think he had me over the table?"

Arthur was silent for a moment too long and Merlin wondered if he'd taken it too far, glancing up to see a blush rising on Arthur's cheeks.

Merlin wasn't sure what to make of this. "I know you don't like him. But he's my friend. He's a good friend."

Arthur snorted.

"He is. And he's loyal." Merlin defended.

"Is that why he told Gwen you have magic?" The words burst out of Arthur's mouth before he could stop them.

"I… What?" Merlin said. Because Lancelot wouldn't do that. Other than his mother, and Gaius who was like a father to him, Lancelot was the only person he cared about who knew and still lived.

"It seems he can't help himself when it comes to Guinevere. She shouted it at me. Was trying to warn me off you." Arthur turned his back to Merlin, so he couldn't read the King's face.

"He wouldn't. She wouldn't." Merlin didn't think to defend himself, only his friends. He had never felt personal betrayal before. He had always thought Gwen cared for him just as much as he did for her, though of course hers had started as a sort of awkward infatuation so many years ago. She was like a sibling now.

"She thinks I'm going to break your heart." The words were hollow. Perhaps this was the only admittance Arthur had needed of his guilt.

"When did she say?" Merlin tried not to stutter the words. If it was just before Arthur came to get him, he may be sent away. If it was longer ago, then Arthur had hidden his knowledge.

"About a week ago. It all made sense, then. It's allowed now, and you didn't leave to practice it. But you also never said." The last word faded out slowly, sounding uncertain.

"I wanted to." Merlin said, looking down, unable to face even Arthur's back. He heard Arthur turn his way again.

"I thought I knew you."

"You do." Merlin felt like begging. This couldn't be the reason. Arthur could reject him, but not for who he was all along. He could reject a feeling. Merlin could understand that, Arthur would need to find a queen. But he wasn't sure he could stand Arthur rejecting the one thing that made him special, the thing that had helped him save Arthur countless times, the thing that bound him to the father he had lost and made him feel like he was more than just a servant, that he was worth a great destiny. Perhaps that he was worth Arthur.

"Do I know everything else?" Arthur asked.

"Yes." Merlin lied. Even then, how could he tell Arthur about this emotional mess he was creating? Why give him more reason to turn away?

"Alright." Arthur replied. Just that. Merlin looked up, too confused to be relieved. Arthur looked to his right, toward the window, even as he continued. "Good."

"Good?" Merlin questioned.

"Nearly perfect." Arthur finally met his eyes, a small, almost mocking smile there.

Merlin smiled in return, unsure if Arthur understood what he was repeating.

"No practicing in Camelot still goes for you, though, Merlin. So don't let me catch you at it."

"I've got plenty of other things to be practicing, Sire." Merlin said with a grin that lit his eyes.

..XxXxX..

A/N: This was a hard chapter to get through, and I'm still not sure I like how it fit together. Please review, whether you liked it or didn't, and let me know! I may edit through it again with constructive criticism. Thank you so much to everyone who has given me their opinions on this so far, it's inspired me to keep going! The next chapter is pretty fluffy so far.

(Chapter title from Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran, just to keep with the theme, which gives me sad Merlin/Arthur feelings, just like every other song now that Merlin is over forever.)


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